


Lay Your Bones On the Alabaster Stones

by ambiguously



Series: Starfall [5]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Force Sex, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han and Luke are on a supply mission together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Your Bones On the Alabaster Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Go to sleep you little babe  
> Go to sleep you little babe  
> You and me and the Devil makes three  
> Don't need no other lovin' baby
> 
> \- Emmylou Harris, Alison Krauss, Gillian Welch

It's ship's night, matched to the rhythms of the planet they're on for the next two weeks. What should have been a simple supply run to Rivvidu turned nasty when they found a knot of Imperial hold-outs trying to seize control of the planet. Syndulla's got a whole hive of _pel_ bees in her bonnet when it comes to the dying embers of the Empire. Now it's not just a resupply, it's also a rebuild. Hard work by day, and dead tired in his own ship at night.

Han was concerned about coming on this particular mission. Technically he and Chewie have arrest warrants out in half a dozen systems, and the Rivvidu system is one of those. The end of the Empire and the rise of the New Republic have put a lot of legal issues on hold, but at some point they're going to have to deal with the fact that Han's a wanted criminal on plenty of worlds, no matter how famous he is these days.

That's not the real reason he didn't want to take this mission, or why he wants to get back home. It's a good story to tell Syndulla.

Luke stirs beside him, sliding from sleep into wakefulness with an easy smile. Han presses his lips into Luke's temple.

"Did I nod off?"

"You were tired." Han's also tired, but he's got too much on his mind to sleep.

"You don't have to worry. She's fine."

"Let me say things out loud. It's creepy when you do that."

"We keeping telling you that you have to learn to shield your mind."

"I shouldn't have to. Most people don't go around reading other people's minds."

"Yes, but you married a telepath."

Han kissed his head again, deciding the argument wasn't worth continuing. "No, I married two of them. Of course I'm worried. We weren't supposed to be gone this long."

"No, but it's good we are. These people need help rebuilding, and it will create a lot of good will for the New Republic if we're the ones helping."

"Yeah." He's not objecting. He's just worried.

"She's not worried. She kicked me out here with you."

Han sits up. "She did what?"

Luke rolls over, propping his head on his hand, hair all skewed from his pillow. "Leia told me to take this supply run with you. She's tired of having us underfoot and fussing over her, and she wants some peace and quiet. I think she's even switching Threepio off in the evenings."

Han smirks at the mental picture. Goodness knows he's done that enough times.

"Leia's fine, Han. She's got plenty of friends close by, and Lando's on world again."

"Oh good. Lando's there. That makes me feel much better."

"If she needs him, she'll call. But she won't need him, because she's fine."

Han lets the thought slip into the front of his head, the one thing none of them ever talk about. Leia was fine last time, too, until she wasn't. Leia doesn't grieve the way normal humans do. She shuts down, and she throws herself into her work. It works for her, keeps her going after every loss when another soul would have given up and died after the loss of her home, the deaths of her parents. Luke's life is all about grieving the might have beens, but he's better at respecting Leia's choice not to dwell than Han is, and that leaves Han with no choice but to move on with them. They don't talk about the last time, don't discuss what went wrong or why. Han can only fear for her now, and wait for the transmission that tells him the worst.

"Do you want me to contact her?" Luke isn't worried. He's projecting Not Worried from his whole body. This is for Han.

"No. She's probably working."

"Probably."

Luke is right. Leia's right. Worrying does nothing except upset the woman he's worried about. She's not in any danger doing her job, not any more than her usual concerns about pan-galactic warfare and assassination attempts. There've been two of the latter, none recently.

Knowing this doesn't prevent Han from freaking out. Luke and Leia's mom died the day they were born. He can face her losing another pregnancy. He can't face losing her.

"Your family is famously not good with babies."

Luke laughs sadly, and Han's sorry he said the words. They've been on his mind for months.

"Fortunately, we were both raised by people who were great with kids. Leia's parents gave her love and purpose, and she's become this amazing woman because of them. My aunt and uncle were my parents in the ways that mattered. I didn't always like what they said, but they taught me about hard work and holding tight to your family no matter what. I can't wait to pass that on. I know you want to raise the baby to call you Father and me Dad, but I grew up calling the man who was my dad Uncle." Luke squints. "Did that make any sense? It made sense in my head but I'm half-asleep."

"Go back to sleep." Han loves him, even when he's weird.

Luke doesn't go back to sleep. Luke tugs Han's arm for him to lie back down beside him. He kisses Han, sending comfort between them. He is worried, too. Han can feel the concern well-hidden in the ripples of confidence. He loves Leia as much as Han does, maybe more, and on a level Han can't reach her. He used to be jealous, back before he understood, and now he can admit to himself he's glad. There's a terrible closeness between the two people he loves, a consuming flame he warms his hands by while hoping not to be incinerated.

There's a different flame between him and each of them, a fire stoked right now by the intensity of Luke's kisses.

"I thought you were tired."

"I am, and so are you. Let's put ourselves to sleep." Luke presses his body against Han's side, and Han can feel his erection poking him. Han scoots his own body to match up with Luke's. A few pumps of his own hand have him just as hard.

It's good here, good like this. The other pilots on this mission are on their own ships, sleeping or drinking or screwing. Nobody but Chewie is on the _Falcon_ with them or can hear them, and Chewie demanded soundproof walls for his own cabin ten years ago. The rest think Han brought along his brother-in-law for an extra pair of hands.

Luke's hands are on him now, careful with his grip because it only takes one bad experience with a robot hand to learn. Han loves the feel of them like this, rubbing against each other, hands clasped around their matched lengths, mouths fumbling through kisses and broken by hard breaths.

He could come just like this, loves coming exactly like this. It's been a long time since the two of them have been together without Leia. Luke doesn't join him on missions as often, too busy scraping up pieces of the past and spackling them together into what will be a new Jedi order. Han flies home, or Leia returns from a diplomatic mission, or Luke wanders back from another dig to an old Jedi ruin, and the three of them fall on each other like hungry sand bears. It's good. It's amazing. But it's not this.

Luke closes his eyes. "Leia's talking to me." He doesn't stop moving his hands, and Han knows she's all right.

"Saying hi?"

"She misses us. I could let her in, I think. Let her feel this." His hips are moving back and forth. Han feels the wet at the tip of his prick, the sticky hint that slides across their hands.

"Ask her."

Luke's eyes close and open again. Han doesn't know if Leia's watching, or feeling, or how this works. All he knows is that he wants to thrust and rut against Luke's lean, willing body. Luke can sense Han's desire, or maybe he's in the same mood. They have slick oils in the cabinet beside the bunk, and in a moment, Luke's summoned the bottle to his hand.

"I don't think the Jedi would approve of the old 'fetch the lube' trick," Han says, taking the bottle and kissing him deeply.

"From what I've been reading, they invented it."

Luke's body arches as Han's fingers slide into him. Can Leia feel this? Does she want to feel this? She likes this form of sex from time to time, when her body is ready and she's in the right frame of mind. Luke prefers to give rather than take, which makes tonight a rare treat for Han. He's got to calm his head, calm his body, and definitely stop stroking the oil on himself, or this isn't going to last any time at all.

Hot and tight, and just slick enough, Luke clenches around him as Han pushes inside. He has to stop, has to wait until his own heart won't hammer out of his chest, wait until Luke relaxes. He goes slow, deep, until he's buried all the way in, sheathed in warmth and drunk on the taste of Luke's mouth.

He can feel Luke's mind touching his, offering up the sensation of each nerve tingling at the thick pressure. Just behind that, he senses Leia's mind enjoying her long-distance voyeurism, and the echo of her own touches against herself.

"Snuck off to the washroom, sweetheart?"

That's hot, thinking of her touching herself as she's listening to them from light years away. Leia's in some fusty meeting about budgets, and under the table, maybe, her fingers have made their way up her own skirt and between her legs. Naturally she's wearing a skirt because this is Han's fantasy. Her fingers are wet because she's wet thinking about her two men.

"She can hear you, you know." Luke's face is caught in amusement, and more than a little raw lust. He's feeling them both, and he's got a nice, big prick inside him, and while one hand is stroking Han's face, the other is busy stroking himself. Luke's got a lot going on, and Han knows irrefutably that he's loving it.

Han bends in for a kiss, diving his tongue deep into Luke's mouth. His body knows what it wants, and moves for him now, short and shallow strokes that edge Luke closer and closer to his peak, and drive Han himself wild. He loves this closeness, loves this connection, loves Luke so much it hurts. If he's not careful, if he loses himself, this _will_ hurt. He thrusts gently, steadily, watching Luke's head fall back and his mouth gape.

There's a hot spray against Han's belly, and Luke moans through his climax, sending out waves of his pleasure that smack into Han's hindbrain as effectively as those orgasm probes he smuggled out of Serenno twelve years ago. Han doesn't have a chance to pull out and doesn't care, groaning his release as his brain shuts down.

For now, everything is peaceful. Their hands have found each other, sticky mess and all, and Luke plays idly with Han's fingers. A quick smile tells Han he just felt Leia finish herself. Han kisses him again, sealing the moment.

"She says good night, and she loves us, and other than getting kicked in the bladder every so often, she's completely fine."

"Tell her we'll be home as soon as we can."

"Already done."

Han rests his head against Luke. They'll have to disentangle soon and clean up, or by morning they'll be glued to the sheets."Leia really kicked you out?"

"She asked me to go. She's worried about you. She wanted me to keep an eye on you."

"She doesn't need to worry about me. I'm not the one who's six months pregnant."

"I'm not the one who's going to argue with someone who's six months pregnant," says Luke. "She's had some bad dreams lately. You starred in the worst ones. She wants to keep you safe because she loves you, and so do I. But you're fine, and she's fine, and I'm fine. Everything is going to be fine."

'Fine' doesn't sound like a word any more. "Jedi prediction or wishful thinking?"

"Neither. We'll make it happen." He kisses Han one more time. "Let's clean up and get some shut eye. We've got some hard work ahead of us tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

"I'm looking forward to it."

end


End file.
